7 Reasons Why I Could Never Be a Real Girl

As a child I had no interest in dolls. Yup, when all my friends played with their ceramic, stuffed or plastic family, combing, washing, feeding, changing, burping I watched and thought ..ugh. I had my share of these, even one as tall as me, in a wedding dress, Walking Doll, and found their company boring. I envied my brothers their Meccano Sets with the nuts and bolts and wrenches.

At about three I had a miniature tea set and table and chairs and my grandmother would visit and we would have ‘tea’. It was a good way to learn proper table manners but I remember my three year old brain wondering why anyone would pretend to pour tea and pretend to drink it. No satisfaction there.

Books were my big interest and instead of imaginary friends I daydreamed of being in the far east with Pearl S. Buck’s characters, thinking I would make a pretty good missionary or geisha girl, or working as a nurse with Dr. Tom Dooley in the jungles of Africa healing the sick and stamping out disease. I also lapped up all information on martyrs and considered that like Joan of Arc I could go out in flames. I just knew martyrdom was my destiny (that goodness I was wrong on that one). For a long time I was an archeologist having adventured with Howard Carter in finding King Tut’s tomb and the curse of course. I wasn’t that crazy about Nancy Drew but could not get enough of Trixie Belden.

I had crushes on boys but not in that sighing lovey way, I wanted to be on their team while they skated in our backyard in the winter and dove on the high diving board in the summer.

As an adult when at parties with other couples I had no interest in sitting with a group of women chatting about style, hair, or gossip. I wanted to be swimming, climbing, laughing with the boys/men and I usually did. When visiting in England once, following tea the men said, “Well we are off to the pub.” I don’t think my female hostesses were too pleased when I jumped up and said, “Great! I’m going too.” And I did.

I am not a shopper and it seems almost blasphemous to admit it when I have dear friends and loved one who LOVE to shop and will do so for hours at a time. My SIL calls it retail therapy and can even go for hours, not buy anything and come home feeling satisfied. I just don’t get it. If I need something I shop and hope the stars and the universe are aligned so I can find what I need quickly and painlessly. I do have to say I envy their results in finding great deals but everything I like at a particular moment is not on sale.

This one I think is probably the biggest sin in ‘girl world’ and I hope none of you scorn me for it but…. I just cannot see what the fuss is about purses, handbags, pocketbooks, bags… well you get the idea. Now I know men can carry them too, but an inner voice keeps telling me they must have been invented by men to keep women subservient and dependent upon their protection. With our arms full we cannot defend ourselves or move freely. Think about it, men generally walk free, while we tote a thing, which to my mind slow us down, weighs us down, and stops us from freedom. And why do we want to subject ourselves to that? You can imagine my horror when women began craving not only the dreaded purse but bags that cost hundreds of dollars. Just to be able to say the words – Coach Bag.

***I have given in somewhat to purses large enough to hold my computer or tablet as these are definitely important but oh my I do feel like a genetic outcast because I cannot embrace ‘The Bag’

I’m with you all the way Chris!
As a child I liked to play in the dirt and get my hands dirty, my pockets were always full of frogs that I’d ‘rescued’ and if I saw a worm on the sidewalk, I’d have to pick it up and put it onto the soil….I still do those things today (except for the frogs!) Never wore much make up, always dressed for comfort and never for fashion – and my handbag and shoes lasts me for years.
Great post!

Amazingly enough I was just thinking about your blog a couple of days ago because I realized that I hadn’t seen it in awhile Truth to tell I may have lump-summed deleted them with other good posts.

I like your posts because they’re real and this one is no exception.

I was at the local Denny’s and the Local Amateur Ham Radio Club was having a coffee klatch. After a while a young man comes in wearing a dress!. While he sat among us a another Amateur Ham Radio enthusiast it was funny to watch because he was just being himself and the varied reactions to him were comical. No one was rude or upset but still he did end up sitting alone at his booth. .

I was already sitting in my seat talking to someone else when he came in and I am a brand new Ham Radio Operator so I didn’t venture forth then to introduce myself to him. I do want to know all the members and in mentioning it to my daughter she said to me “Dad, he’s probably the most interesting person in the room”!

Anyway I going to invite him to sit in my booth next time and hopefully we can talk about Ham Radio. Still in all, as my daughter said……he may be the most interesting person in the room. For me the real display wasn’t that he wore a dress. The real thing is that more than many people in that room he displayed courage. The courage to be himself overrode every conventional tradition, or expectation and because of his courage I realize more than ever that I too can afford to be myself because of him.

Here’s to US, whoever we may be. Thank you for your courage and the good sense to be yourself.

I am very lucky to have a husband who likes to do the shopping, I just txt him the list.. and I have used the same hand bag for years and years and the more battered it looks the more I like it. But it is leather, very well made and built to last. The same with shoes and belts and coats and things. . I prefer to buy very well made, locally made items in a classic style of my own with no reference to fashion at all and that will be with me for years and years.. but oh my they are hard to find.. and you certainly do pay for them. But once bought there I am done for another five or ten years. I don’t think this makes me girlie though.(However I do Love lunch with my friends when i go home and talk about kids and the price of steak, and how to deal with a mother in law who is anxious and difficult .. I miss having women friends out here where i am. I am always dealing with men. And not very nice men most of the time. hmm.. I don’t think I am girlie though.. c

I love well made long lasting lived in looking things. I once met a man in a bar, in my bar days and all the guys he was with had shiny cowboy boots on and he looked down at his, which were worn and well used, a look I find quite sexy. Anyway he saw me looking at his boots and he said – I should have cleaned up my boots – in a shamed tone and turned around and walked away. How I wish I had told him how wonderful his boots were. I cherish my women friends and our lunches and gabs too. It must be lonely for you missing that social contact and I know that chatting to us and writing your blogs is not at all the same thing. I think you are the epitome of what a woman can be. You are feminine and at the same time scrappy which is to say strong. And your creativity knows no bounds. Your strength gives me and I am sure so many others strength. I think you are my superhero!

comrade, friend, sister…you wrote exactly how I have always felt. A bit of a rebel for not towing the line and conforming to the norm. I will admit to having a bag but not a designer label,,,never have figured that one out…why buy shoes or a bag because of where and who made them. I buy cos I like them. My shoes come from China. !!!
I had dolls but gave them up when I discovered boys
You are not alone in your thoughts..I am with you all the way

You are just as much of a real girl as any and more than most. I don´t much care for stereotypes. I didn´t play with dolls, preferred teddy bears. I loved Trixie Belden and I would have gone to the pub as well. (bravo!) At a party I am usually discussing business with the fellows and other real woman. Here´s to all the woman who defy silly old conventions!! Hugs, Darlene

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming ... Theodore Roosevelt